


Creation Myths

by krabapple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krabapple/pseuds/krabapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four homes at the edge of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creation Myths

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ninjajab for the 2006 Minimalist Fic Exchange.
> 
> The prompt: _"When Hades decided he loved this girl / he built for her a duplicate of the earth, / everything the same, down to the meadow." -- Louise Glueck_

**I.**

Sirius goes to James first, which Remus only expects. He's only heard part of the story: most of it from James, some of it from Peter. None of it from Sirius himself. Broken dishes, hurled insults, veiled threats. Straws broken. Hearts shattered. Sirius, Gryffindor to his bones, Black down to the roots on the hairs of his head, flung of his own accord from the House.

The last two weeks of the summer are Remus'. Mum approved and Dad supervised, Sirius will be here, in Remus' house. The house with the old sofa, and the creaky ancient stove; the one with the peeling paint and the small cobwebs in the corner of the attic. In preparation, in solemn reverence, Remus has carefully built a refuge, though even he barely knows that is what it is. There is the spare mattress on the floor next to his bed, covered in crisp, clean white sheets that smell like rain. Sirius may or may not use it; it is mostly for show, for Remus' parents, but Remus imagines that Sirius will at least nap there, long dark hair sprawled against the color of pure porcelain, even if he spends his nights in Remus' bed. There are bright yellow towels in the bathroom, hand me downs from his aunt Stella, set crisply against the wallpaper peeling at the corners from steam. Bright red pillows are resting in a corner of Remus' room, near the desk, just the right size for a large dog.

Outside there are daffodils peeking through the grass, bathing suits laid out by the small lake. Fishing poles constructed out of long sticks and line rest under the large tree, waiting for use. There's a path worn down to the woods beyond the house, where Remus and Sirius can go together, as human in the day and canine at night, to be wild, to be young, to be free.

The last two weeks are Remus', before the summer dies.

 **II.**

Sirius takes the first ground floor flat he can find. It is small, but comfortable, with a modestly appointed garden in the back. The garden really is too small for them to go out to on full moon nights, nothing at all like the tall trees and gangly underbrush outside of Hogsmeade, but Sirius takes the flat anyway, because the overgrown grass reminds him of the meadow down the hill from Hogwarts Lake.

Inside, the kitchen is small and the bedroom large, which Sirius thinks is appropriate, considering where he hopes they will spend most of their time. Remus does cook, on occasion, mostly meals like spaghetti, sometimes a pot roast, but for the year prior, just after Hogwarts, they survived mostly on curry take-away, and neither is the worse off for it. There is a huge fireplace; it dominates the left wall of the living room. It will be easy to connect to the floo network, and Sirius has already made sure the mantel is covered in photographs. In one taken four months ago, with the Thames in the background, Sirius and Remus wave to the camera when there are other people in the room, and snog each other senseless when only their life-sized counterparts are present.

There is a second bedroom, tiny, but large enough for three bookshelves that Sirius buys second hand from the shopgirl in Flourish and Botts and has James help him haul down the block with a combination of magic and a hand truck. Peter is there to meet them with butterbeer, and the three of them spend the afternoon stacking books on the shelves, some of them Sirius', some of the Remus'. Even three shelves are not enough, and they end up stacking books in corners, on the windowsill, and behind the door.

There aren't sheets on the bed yet, but the books are out and in a room of their own.

James and Peter go, and half an hour later Moony is home from work, wiping his feet on the mat before coming in, toeing off his shoes in the entry way. Sirius meets him at the door with curry, a grin and a kiss, and finds his future in Remus' smile.

 

 **III.**

Remus doesn't own a house anymore; he sold the home he grew up in after his parents died. There's only a small flat on the outskirts of Devon, tiny even for one man, let alone two. Still, Remus does what he can: he empties out half of the closet for Sirius; remakes the bed with new sheets he bought on sale in London the last time he was there, the ones he thought were presumptuous to purchase when he wasn't sure he'd even have anyone to share them with; he has the fireplace connected to the floo network, with Dumbledore's help, since werewolves are not permitted by the Ministry to have their dwellings connected.

Remus buys plenty of food at the market. He stocks the pantry with bread, and the refrigerator with butter and raspberry jam. There is chicken, and potatoes, and fresh apple tarts from the bakery, Mrs. Miller's specialty. The milk is fresh and the cheese aged and sharp. The sugar bowl is filled to the brim, and the cabinets stocked with Earl Grey and Darjeeling and English Breakfast.

Remus runs a bath so hot it is almost scalding. It turns his arm red up to the elbow when he checks the temperature. Steam fills the room and the mirror is a foggy mess. Remus resists the urge to write on mirror with his finger, parcel out letters through the steam. Instead, he makes sure there is plenty of soap, and shampoo – the kind that smells like strawberries – and that the towels are fresh and warmed by a charm.

Remus doesn't think it's enough, not nearly enough, but later, when he finally gets to wrap his arms around Sirius, to bury his face into Sirius' hair, he thinks that this better than he deserves, and more than he ever thought he'd be able to have again.

 

 **IV.**

While he waits for Remus, Sirius remakes the world.

This life is almost better than magic. There are no limitations, and he can conjure whatever he wants, whenever he wants to. So he chooses carefully, rearranges, sends things back or creates them again, newer, fresher, better. He recreates the best parts of their lives, large and small.

There is the four-poster from Hogwarts, and the desk where Remus used to do his homework. There are yellow towels, just like at the house Remus grew up in, and red pillows where Sirius can curl up when he changes into the dog. Bookshelves like the ones in their first flat together line every wall; there are more than three now, and Sirius has stocked them with an unimaginable array of volumes. There is a small garden, like the one outside the flat, though beyond that Sirius has replicated the meadow near Hogsmeade, and even further still there stand trees replanted from where Remus grew up.

Sheets from Remus' Devon flat adorn the four poster, and the tub is huge, with claw feet, like the one where Remus bathed him after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. The shampoo smells like strawberries, because Sirius fancies the way it always smelled in Remus' hair – like strawberries, yes, but mixed with the smell of old books and of Remus. _Moony._ There's tea in the cupboard, and curry take-away in the fridge.

Sirius knows he loves that man, so he builds for him a duplicate of their life, everything the same, down to the meadow and the forest and the moon – only without pain, or doubt, or time.


End file.
